CHAPTER ONE
Montana Territory
Blackfoot Country
August 1840
From a ridge high above the four tepees, Crow warrior, Strikes Fast, looked down upon the familiar scene of the blue-yellow-and-red-painted tepees, their entrances facing east, while the back of each of the lodges was braced by several poles to provide protection against the westerly winds. The largest dwelling—the lodge painted with images of warriors the magician had killed—would be the tepee of Red Sky and his first wife. Probably it also housed his newest captive, Sharon.
The second tepee would be the home of his other six wives. Strikes Fast recognized the third and fourth tepees in the camp as belonging to the magician's brother and his four wives. But, the brother was not a recognized warrior with a good war record, and during a fight it was well known the man would be inclined to hide like the coward he was.
The tepees had been set up on an island in the middle of theÁashisee, the Big Missouri River, and Strikes Fast took a moment to admire the setting of the blue water against the backdrop of the white and gray cliffs which jutted up so grandly from the land. In the far distance could be seen the summit of a mountain, but it was too far away to discern more than a misty image of its peak. Because it was late morning, the sun was high in the sky, adding to the silhouette of the bright, blue-colored river and the gray and white cliffs, the azure sky seeming to paint the scene with all the colors given by Sun, the Creator.
It was a good day to die. But, perhaps if his medicine were good today, his demise could be delayed.
Heaving in a deep sigh, Strikes Fast rose up to his full six-foot height and stood up straight and tall, his look unafraid as he began his descent down the cliff. He did not seek to hide the noise he made in the warm shallow water as he trod through it toward the island. Nor did he creep into the magician's camp like a wolf in the night. Rather he announced his coming with as grand an entry as possible.
After stepping up onto the shoreline of the island, Strikes Fast strode immediately to the lodge of Red Sky and, scratching on the entry flap, let himself in without awaiting a reply.
Strikes Fast scanned, without really looking at, the interior of the lodge. Many of the comforts of home were to be seen within the lodge even though Red Sky was encamped far from his home in Crow country. The brightly painted tepee liner, the comfortable backrest, the many robes and furs, as well as the several and assorted parfleche storage bags holding food and the family's clothing; all were laid out or hung up on tepee poles for convenience. It was odd how comfortable Red Sky and his family were, being that they had set up camp within the territory of the enemy, the Pikuni. It only went to show the amount of faith Red Sky and his family placed upon the deadly effect of Red Sky's magic.
As the familiar scent of the smoke from the inside fire reached out to Strikes Fast, his "host," Red Sky, said in his deep, bass voice, "Welcome. I have not seen you for many snows. We had all thought you to be dead, yet here you are, alive and without proper manners…as usual. What brings you here on such an uninviting afternoon?"
Odd how the other man could insult, yet extend a welcome all in the same breath. Said Strikes Fast in the Crow tongue, "I have come to bring the woman you have stolen back to the Pikuni people. She is not Pikuni. She is white, and you may not have her."
"I will not part with her. She brings me…pleasure." Red Sky smiled, though the look possessed more the air of an evil temperament than amusement. "You may leave now."
But, Strikes Fast did not leave. Instead, he glanced quickly at Sharon, the beautiful tawny-haired white woman, if only to ensure she was alive and aware. For a moment, she returned his gaze, but then she looked quickly away.
Finding an unoccupied place within Red Sky's lodge, Strikes Fast sat down cross-legged, as was befitting a real man. He said, "I think you had best give her to me."
"Think you so?"
Strikes Fast shrugged. "I do. Unless you wish to war with me. But, I advise you against it, for you will not win it."
Red Sky seemed to enjoy a good laugh at Strikes Fast's expense before he replied, "You know well my magic. You have seen it kill men much greater than you." Again Red Sky smiled, but the gesture was hardly cheerful. "Go now, and I will forget all about this."
"I would like to leave at once," said Strikes Fast. "But, she must come with me. I will not go away from here without her."
Again Red Sky laughed, as though Strikes Fast were a clown intent on amusing him. "'She must come with me,'" Red Sky mimicked. "I do not think so. This is your last chance to leave and remain alive."
Strikes Fast didn't speak. Instead, he looked down as he extended his mind out into the environment, preparing himself for what he knew was to come. He had never been witness to Red Sky's medicine. Yet, he had heard much about it from many other Crow people and he had personally known men who had been killed by it.
Unexpectedly, he felt the power of kindness as well as a warm regard upon him, and he looked up to see its source, finding himself staring straight into the light amber of Sharon's eyes. For a moment, he gazed into the beauty of her countenance, realizing for the first time the strength and goodness of her heart.
However, her heart was not the only admirable quality about her. She was beautiful of face and figure as well, with light, delicate-colored skin, rose-colored cheeks and long, amber-colored hair; some of the length of her hair fell in waves over her shoulders and covered her breast. She was slim and rounded in all the right places, and the style of her white-man's clothing emphasized her femininity.
The image of her, as well as the strength of her heart, gladdened him. Said Strikes Fast, returning his attention to the matter at hand, "I will do battle with you if you insist upon it. But, I warn you. You have never had to endure the power of my medicine upon you. And so, because you do not know who I really am or what I can do, I will give you one last chance. Give her to me, and I will leave here."
Red Sky laughed so hard, the tepee practically shivered. Then, reaching out to take hold of a particular parfleche bag, Red Sky looked up and grinned. This must have been a special bag to the man, for it was decorated with red and white symbols of war; triangles, sharp-tipped arrows, spears, bows and even a red-and-white symbol of a white man's long rifle were all painted upon it.
"Prepare to die," uttered the magician, Red Sky, and, from the parfleche bag, he extracted a spider. No more. No less. But, what a spider it was, being perhaps the size of a man's fist. It was black also, and its front legs looked to be claws. But, it was the spider's fangs, sharp and long, which would cause its poison to enter into a man's bloodstream, the result being a long and painful death.
So, this was the source of Red Sky's black magic.
For a moment, Strikes Fast felt a shiver of fear run down his spine. But, instead of allowing himself to fall victim to the emotion, Strikes Fast grinned at the magician as though daring the man to do his worst.
And, his worst was known to be very bad. Indeed, Strikes Fast knew there was no medicine man within the Crow Nation who possessed an herb, a tea or a special kind of mud that could extract the poison or counter it once the spider had bitten a man. In truth, the effect of its deadly poison was legendary within the memory of his people; many warriors had perished because of it. Strikes Fast had known a few of them.
